little sarah Big World

Tag: giggles

What We Write (part 1)

written

Chad and I fell in love through writing. Did you know? We met volunteering, flirted tenaciously, felt parallel panic, talked like we’d known each other forever, and then fell into an easy-yet-awkward (and very much sporadic) penpalmanship.

We would check in via letter, or email (or–let’s be honest–facebook) every six months to a year. Then drift off into our own separate lives.

Except one time that didn’t happen. One time we just kept writing. And writing. And writing, until we’d written a book–228 pages of hopes, fears, and things that you’d never want your parents to read.

Anyways, so that’s what we know, and what we come back to, though we’ve also been known to talk on the phone for hours at a time, or stay up all night diving into the oceans of each others minds. Or–lets be honest–watch a movie and then go to bed at 9pm.

And one time (just once), we played around with our new iPhones, dictating random thoughts to Siri to see what she’d turn them into. And that one time, I asked Chad to talk about “what it would be like if we had a kitty cat.”

Then Siri gave us the following, which I have transcribed into poem format. Because it is truly poetic. Thank you, iPhone. Thank you, Siri. Thank you, Chad.

*       *       *

What Would it Be Like if We Had a Kitty Cat?

What would it be like if we had a kitty cat?

Odelays, and having a KitKat
(that we got to snuggle with)and had the to-take for you

Catwalks, in the looking
Little Kitty Cat(and I’m bad)

and then we were–I’m pretty

Nake-Etiquette
daycare, Oberlin

Good little kitty cat

Mayonaise
(and I don’t get off)

Sundaze

 

Some days you just have a mood, you know? Like anxiety, or restlessness…anger. Some days you have a black heart, and some days it’s grey, and some days you go to the grocery store and buy milk and toilet paper, everything white and clean.

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History

I remember:

-Giant fake sequoias and a rising sense of panic, an urgent text–“I feel supremely un-okay”–and then reassurance, caring

-A long drive that turned out to be so much more perfect than a short one

-Your hand on my leg

-Almost crashing, over and over, but not really feeling scared

-Drinking bourbon straight from the bottle

-Holding each other, frantically, because this was finally real. It was touchable.

-Crying in the bathroom; missing my friends

-3 hours of sleep

-Watching you drink a mug of coffee, black

-A drive that I never wanted to end

-Waiting for you outside the bathroom

-Your hand on my back

-A long lazy lunch

-“Where does he think I’m from?”

-Stealing kisses in the car

-2 hours behind a budget truck (high centered), and absolutely not caring. Being content, just to be there. Just to be near you.

-Skipping a nap and dinner in favor of tall glasses of whiskey

-Being unable to get up off the couch

-A ridiculous party, never-ending laughs, running home, pretending to be asleep

-Piecing together the night before

-Popcorn for breakfast

-Coming home sweaty after a run to your smiling face

-Changing with the door wide open

-Screaming Turkish music, and meeting new people

-Feeling like I ought to live up to expectations; feeling unable to do so

-Being so, so cold all of the time

-Long walks

-A secret spot

-Saving the end of the story for later

-The Giggles

-A night in with mota, wine, and The Tip of the Iceberg

-Waking up earlier

-Talking for hours in bed, and an internal sigh of relief

-Teaching each other

-A complete meal (bet you anything those pancakes weren’t vegan)

-A walk on the beach

-Watching you watch me watch you smoke

-Hanging out, looking at pictures, smoking, talking

-Meeting my twin!

-SLAYING IT at karaoke

-After being so nervous and anxious that I was about to ask to leave

-Because karaoke is infinitely scarier to me than any other performance

-Because you were drunk and instantly so comfortable with me, while I felt uneasy. And guilty.

-Out of my element

-A failed dance party of two

-Your eyes

-A quick drive to the airport, and goodbye for now

*       *       *

I don’t remember perfection, but I remember everything. The amazing parts, the scary parts, the anxious parts, the hunger, the hangovers. It wasn’t perfect, and I am not perfect. I am real, and so are you, and so is this.

As real as the pain of its absence.

As real as the relief of its return.